ger than she is to-day.
However, there is one older than myself, and that is the salmon-trout of
Glyn Llifon.' To him went the eagle and asked him the age of the owl and
got for answer: 'I have a year over my head for every gem on my skin and
for every egg in my roe, yet have I always seen the owl look the same;
but there is one older than myself, and that is the ousel of Cilgwry.'
Away went the eagle to Cilgwry, and found the ousel standing upon a
little rock, and asked him the age of the owl. Quoth the ousel: 'You see
that the rock below me is not larger than a man can carry in one of his
hands: I have seen it so large that it would have taken a hundred oxen to
drag it, and it has never been worn save by my drying my beak upon it
once every night, and by my striking the tip of my wing against it in
rising in the morning, yet never have I known the owl older or younger
than she is to-day. However, there is one older than I, and that is the
toad of Cors Fochnod; and unless he knows her age no one knows it.' To
him went the eagle and asked the age of the owl, and the toad replied: 'I
have never eaten anything save what I have sucked from the earth, and
have never eaten half my fill in all the days of my life; but do you see
those two great hills beside the cross? I have seen the place where they
stand level ground, and nothing produced those heaps save what I
discharged from my body, who have ever eaten so very little--yet never
have I known the owl anything else but an old hag who cried Too-hoo-hoo,
and scared children with her voice even as she does at present.' So the
eagle of Gwernabwy; the stag of Ferny-side Brae; the salmon trout of Glyn
Llifon; the ousel of Cilgwry; the toad of Cors Fochnod, and the owl of
Coomb Cowlyd are the oldest creatures in the world; the oldest of them
all being the owl."

CHAPTER LIV

Chirk--The Middleton Family--Castell y Waen--The Park--The Court
Yard--The Young Housekeeper--The Portraits--Melin y Castell--Humble
Meal--Fine Chests for the Dead--Hales and Hercules.

The weather having become fine, myself and family determined to go and
see Chirk Castle, a mansion ancient and beautiful, and abounding with all
kinds of agreeable and romantic associations. It was founded about the
beginning of the fifteenth century by a St John, Lord of Bletsa, from a
descendant of whom it was purchased in the year 1615 by Sir Thomas
Middleton, the scion of an ancient Welsh family who, follo